


Dependant

by Miri1984



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, short fic, tax avoidance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: Bobbi Voresh, Privateer of the republic, visits a lawyer in order to complete a very important transaction. Corso is, predictably, bewildered.





	

“You still haven’t explained why we’re here.” People could be forgiven for believing Corso Riggs was a simple farm boy, way out of his depth in the complex and crowded galaxy, and sometimes he could forgive them for thinking that too, especially when he was being dragged around by the woman currently tapping her foot impatiently as she waited in the reception office of one of the fanciest law firms on Coruscant.

“Shush, Corso,” Bobbi said. “It’s for your own good.”

“Captain, with all due respect, whenever you say that I get a little nervous.”

“I don’t pay you to be nervous,” she said. 

“You don’t pay me at…”

Bowdaar growled something from behind Bobbi and Corso closed his mouth tight. She didn’t pay him, really, not in the way that he’d been paid in his other jobs. Every now and then, though, she would lavish expensive gifts on him (that could be sold discreetly whenever they were in port), and he had a safe place to sleep and regular meals. Not to mention job opportunities came his way more often than not simply by virtue of being a close associate of the famous Captain Bobbi Voresh, one time smuggler, currently best known as the Savior of Makeb, a regular Hero of the Republic.

He liked that Bobbi helped people. Well, sometimes. If there were credits involved she’d go above and beyond (way beyond, sometimes, the money she could possibly earn in return for her actions). On those rare occasions when payment wasn’t forthcoming, she’d done the right thing any way, making him certain in his heart that she was the kind of woman worthy of following. A good person. Better than most he had met. 

The secretary had not been able to hide her distaste at having seven and a half feet of wookiee in the waiting room but had also had enough of a sense of self preservation not to say anything about it to their face. In any case when she looked up from the holoscreen to inform them that Mr Hugans would see them now, Bobbi gave her an arch look that somehow managed to convey equal parts disdain and amusement. 

The office of Gertrand Hugans was lavish and well appointed, an enormous, official looking desk surrounded by lush potted plants and expensive looking artworks. Behind the desk sat a small, precise looking human who looked up from a stack of datapads as they entered, brightening considerably when he caught sight of Bobbi, but frowning a little when he saw Corso and Bowdaar behind her.

“Mistress Voresh,” he began, but Bobbi held up a hand. 

“I prefer Captain, Gertrand,” she said, throwing herself into one of the chairs facing the lawyer’s desk.

“Captain,” Hugans said, tilting his head slightly. “It’s been some time since you’ve graced our offices with your presence. I have letters from your father that…”

She waved a hand. “Send them on, Gertrand, you know my policy on correspondence with family.”

“He expressly asked me to deliver them to you personally, Captain. It seems some of his correspondence over the past…” Hugans looked down at his datapad, then looked up again “ten years has gone astray.”

Bobbi shrugged, glancing up at Bowdaar, who folded his arms across his chest. There was nothing especially threatening about the gesture, except that it was made by Bowdaar. As usual, that was enough. 

“I’ll… send them on,” he said, swallowing. “Directly after we’ve concluded our business here today. I have all the documentation you sent through, this is a fairly straightforward procedure, merely requiring your presence and a few technical details. It was my understanding you were going to bring the child with you?”

“I have,” she said.

Hugans peered past her, as though he expected to see someone other than Corso in the room. “Uh… you have?”

She reached up and patted Corso’s arm. “He’s right here,” she said. 

Hugans’ eyes widened. “ _He_ is the… Are you certain he’s only…” the man glanced at the datapad in front of him “..thirteen? He looks rather… uh… muscular for his age.”

“Growth hormone,” Bobbi said smoothly. “Poor kid was exposed to it in the labour camps on Hutta.”

Corso’s jaw dropped as he looked at Bobbi, then at the lawyer, then down at the datapad. No matter how he squinted he couldn’t make out the aurebesh from where he was standing. He doubted he’d be able to make head or tails of it any way, legal jargon really wasn’t one of his strong points. 

Meanwhile Hugans had raised one delicate eyebrow. “You do hear some terrible things about what happens in Hutt controlled space,” he said, slowly.

Bobbi shook her head, arranging a mournful expression on her face. “Breaks my heart,” she said. “The sort of things I saw down there. I only wish I could adopt every one of those poor children.”

“Adopt…?” Corso began.

“Well, you’re doing the right thing by this one, Captain,” said Hugans, quickly, over the top of the million and two questions boiling in Corso’s head and trying to force themselves out of his mouth. “It’s no wonder the Republic has honoured you so many times.”

Bobbi placed one hand over her heart. “The gratitude of the republic humbles me,” she said, and Corso almost choked. “Where do I sign?”

It was only in the ride back to the ship that Corso managed to find his voice. “What… what did you just do, Captain?”

“You’re my son now Corso,” she said. “Remind me when it’s your birthday so I can bake you a cake. But I’m not tucking you in at night and you still have to get your own meals.”

Of all the relationships he’d envisioned having with the Captain, this was certainly not one of them. “Your... _son?_ ”

“I adopted you.” She tossed the datapad she’d been carrying at him, he caught it reflexively and keyed it on, staring at an impossibly long and complicated collection of words that made his head spin.

“Why?”

Bowdaar, driving the speeder back towards Coruscant spaceport with his typical disregard for the rules and regulations of traffic, growled something that he’d never heard in shyriiwook before. 

“What did he say?”

“Tax,” Bobbi said. “The more dependants I have the more I can claim back on tax. You’re my fourth child, Corso, one day I’ll have to take you to meet your brothers and sisters.”

“Your… fourth….”

Bobbi waved a hand. “They’re wayward souls, who get a stipend from what I save whenever tax time comes around, something I’ll add to your paycheck too now, as well as your room and board.”

“You don’t give me a…”

“In any case Hugans has dealt with this sort of thing for me in the past, he’s very professional, you don’t have to change your name or anything and your passport and papers still list you as an adult, it’s just… mine… don’t.”

He blinked. From the front seat he could hear the soft whuff of wookiee chuckling. “Is Bowdaar one of…” Bobbi laughed, a long delighted peal that reminded him exactly what had drawn him to her in the first place, a good thing, because he’d been having trouble remembering in the past few minutes. 

“Of course not. He’s two hundred years…” Bowdaar growled menacingly and Bobbi grinned “ _One_ hundred years older than me, they’d never believe he was my kid.”

“Oh that’s….”

“He’s my husband.”

The wookiee chuckling increased in volume. Corso considered jumping out of the speeder while it was still moving and running screaming into the red light district. What would happen then though? Would she be accused of being a neglectful parent? There was a thought.

_Her son._

Today was officially one of the weirdest days of his life.

By the time they got back to the ship he still hadn’t managed to process what had happened. Guss looked at him from the dejarik table, where he was being patiently taught how to play by Akaavi. From what he could see the mandalorian didn’t have the best grasp of the rules either -- she favoured rushing straight into battle with little or no strategy. Still, against Guss, she was winning convincingly enough.

“You don’t look so good, Corso,” he said. “I mean… I can sense it uh… through the force. Need to go to sickbay?” Corso shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t think so.”

“Tell me what to do here, Akaavi, should I send my dewback against the rancor or…”

“Yes, it will charge forth gloriously and die with honour.”

“I don’t think that’s the point of the game, Akaavi,” Risha said from the kitchenette. She was making tea with that astonishingly complicated machine that Bobbi had given her last life day. “What about some tea, Corso? Might clear your head a bit.”

“Did you know Bobbi had four children?” he blurted out, not quite loudly enough for Guss and Akaavi to hear. 

Risha shrugged. “You mean her dependants? Sure. It’s an old trick. Never used it myself of course, father didn’t pay taxes at all.”

“I guess the famous Nok Drayen didn’t really get an official tax bill, hey,” Corso said.

She smirked. “He wouldn’t have paid it if he had.”

“So… you don’t think it’s weird at all?” Corso said.

“Weird?”

“That she adopted me. I mean. It’s not like my parents are still around to object but I don’t think…”

Risha sighed and carefully poured herself a cup of something that smelled vaguely of flowers. “Corso, just roll with it. She’ll give you some of the money in your paycheck, it really isn’t that big a deal.”

“I don’t get a…”

 _“And_ if you play your cards right you’ll be in her will. Do you have any idea how much she’s worth these days?”

He shook his head and sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I guess I’m her son now then.”

“That’s the spirit,” Risha said, smiling. 

From the common area, he heard the sound of Akaavi’s triumphant laughter. “Was that… was that supposed to happen?” Guss’ voice, sounding mournful.

 _Who really knows, Guss,_ he thought to himself. _Who really knows._


End file.
